Frustration.

I haven’t had my usual bout of winter blues yet this year. November to February is often a very difficult time for me, but I’ve got away lightly so far.

What I am getting is a constant sense of desirable things being in sight but out of reach – like being an urchin looking through the window of a restaurant. The food is all there but they won’t let me in because I’m scruffy.

Unfulfilled potential.

It’s even getting down to the level of the ditties. All night I’ve had this running through my head:

There was a young woman from Hispaniola

Who couldn’t speak English or play the viola.

Will it go anywhere? No. Unfulfilled potential.

It’s that distance thing again. Images flaunting their desirability, but staying beyond touching distance. Even the moon, beautiful though she is, remains ultimately unreachable.

There’s something out there, something big, I know it. But how to find the hidden doorway so I can sally forth and grasp whatever it is?